


Missed Cues

by ApprenticedMagician



Series: Cue Cards and Velvet Boxes [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: 5+1 Things, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, Neil's POV, kinda angsty, misuse of italics - everyone knows that's my thing right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApprenticedMagician/pseuds/ApprenticedMagician
Summary: 5 times Andrew meant to propose and Neil noticed - well, noticedsomething.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Cue Cards and Velvet Boxes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770565
Comments: 19
Kudos: 396





	Missed Cues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cue Cards and Velvet Boxes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842559) by [Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth). 



> This is meant to be read in combination with leahelisabeth's [Cue Cards and Velvet Boxes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22842559) both so that you can make sense of which events Neil is referencing and because it's adorable and you deserve a treat.
> 
> Thank you so much for being patient with me, dear! I hope you enjoy this little gift, crafted specially for you <3

1.  
At 6:21pm on a Friday evening, Neil Josten was running and running _late._

To his surprise, he was the first one home to the apartment, evidenced by the lack of Andrew’s shoes at the door. Thanking all his lucky stars, Neil shed his coat when suddenly he remembered their agreement to meet on the roof beforehand. Cursing six ways to Sunday, he raced back out, one of his shoelaces undone and the door barely locked behind him.

When Andrew wasn’t on the rooftop either, it was both a relief and a concern. It wasn’t like Andrew to be late without warning.

Before he had time to grow too worried, a familiar car beep rang from the parking lot below – Andrew’s Maserati, dutifully reporting locked doors. Catching his breath and sitting down, Neil wondered if he had mistaken the time, but that morning Andrew had definitely insisted on a six o’clock supper.

He was still thinking it over, digging out a pack and lighter, when Andrew joined. Neil smiled to see him, hair burning honey gold in the setting sun.

“Hey, you,” Neil said, sinking into a hello kiss, easy after so long. It was over far too soon, and Neil might have reinitiated it except Andrew looked like he had something to say.

But then Andrew didn’t say anything. Minutes passed them by while hazel eyes swept ‘cross Neil’s face, almost like Neil was once again an ephemeral pipedream he wouldn’t dare reach for. Neil dismissed the comparison almost immediately – Andrew had long since made sure Neil’s running habits were a thing of the past. Andrew had likely missed him after the day apart. Neil liked that idea. A lot.

So he forgot his resolve to wait and teased, “You're a very lucky man, Andrew Minyard.”

Andrew stiffened. “Why’s that,” he croaked. (...Odd.)

“Because I’m not going to ask you why you’re late to the date _you_ arranged.”

Andrew snorted but relaxed. Neil felt the air ease between them, an uncommon tension that he didn’t recognize dissipating away. Maybe he should have kept harder to his peace and let Andrew say whatever it was he struggled to?

But the moment had passed and Andrew was settling down beside him to steal a cigarette with a nudge to the shoulder. “Generous of you, to let me keep my own business.”

“I know! Hence your luck.” Another kiss, this one with a little bite. Andrew fell into it easily, fluidly, and Neil forgot all about whatever that one-time-only tension had been.  
  


2.  
It wasn’t that Andrew had never done anything big before. Actually, he’d done a fair few gestures, ranging from a new car on Neil’s birthday to an all-inclusive weekend trip to Las Vegas for their third anniversary. But the Bel Argent Bistro was… well it was French and thus outrageously overpriced. Still, Andrew insisted it had been too long since he’d treated Neil to something nice and it seemed impolite to argue, especially when the wine was good.

Once the courses started, Neil revised his decision – fighting Andrew on this place would have been criminal. The bistro was absolutely deserving of every 5-star Google review it possessed.

Still, Neil felt a little out of place. They were seated in the middle of a rather cramped dining floor and everywhere he looked, he saw glitz and glam in every cashmere sweater and diamond necklace. They were the youngest couple in the place by at least fifteen years. And sure, his suit was reasonably tailored and Andrew had insisted he wear the cufflinks Wymack had gifted them once they went pro, but Neil couldn’t help feeling underdressed in a four-year-old jacket and mustard-stained tie.

“Shoot,” he said, realizing what would have helped his nerves. His national championship ring from last year was a bit clunky but it made a good fidget toy. “Should’ve worn my ring.”

Andrew choked, to Neil’s sudden panic. He just about leapt out of his chair to perform a Heimlich when Andrew stopped him with a hand, punched his own chest and coughed up a small wad of duck meat. Neil saw some of the other diners grimace away and felt indignation blaze in his belly. The fire stoked higher when Neil saw how embarrassed Andrew looked.

“We can go,” he offered, too busy glaring down onlookers to see how Andrew flinched and paled at his words. “We aren’t some gay entertainment for the masses.”

“No,” Andrew wheezed out, which forced Neil’s attention back to concern. “It’s fine. We’re four courses in – should stick around for dessert.”

Something clicked, as Neil realized dessert was probably why Andrew had chosen this restaurant in the first place. He couldn’t deny Andrew his sweets. Forcibly, Neil calmed himself down. He’d endured far worse than some elitist funny looks for Andrew before.

Waitstaff cleared away their plates when applause broke out behind him and the whole celebratory farce of a public proposal occurred. Neil rolled his eyes. He honestly didn’t see the romance everyone kept gawking at and said as much to his boyfriend.

Andrew rushed off, mumbling something about hurling his guts out, which gave Neil a chuckle. Eventually the fuss over the new engagement died down and Neil turned back around to wait for their dinner’s final course.

That was when his eyes fell on the elderly couple. A man and woman sat near the window, both perhaps in their 80s, all dressed up for a night out. They both wore fancy velvet hats. They both wore rings. They weren’t doing anything special or making any fuss but Neil saw a card on their table boasting ’60 years together’ and their legs were pressed together under the table. He couldn’t make himself look away.

Absently, Neil realized he was fiddling with his hand again, thumb searching the empty space for a ring he felt he should be wearing.

Marriage was as fleeting a thought for him as it always had been. Even now, that a marriage certificate was something he could feasibly sign and have, there seemed little point to it all. They were happy as they were, Neil and Andrew. They were sharing a life and a home and two cats and they celebrated anniversaries of their own. They were the one ‘forever’ that either of them truly believed in and they didn’t need a certificate or rings or a big party with all their friends to tell them that.

(... But...)

Besides, if Andrew had run so quickly from the mere sight of another couple’s engagement, it wasn’t worth discussing with him. Marriage just wasn’t in the cards for them, at least for now. Neil shook himself out of it eventually, cued by the arrival of an exorbitant fruit platter and downright monstrous chocolate cake. When Andrew returned, Neil had blocked out all thought of rings and promises and what sixty years together really looked like.  
  


3.  
The morning after the starlit picnic, Neil woke before Andrew. He thought briefly of kissing Andrew awake but decided Andrew had earned his rest. And maybe some specially brewed coffee, served in bed.

Working in the kitchen kept his brain mild and happy until the pot started brewing and there was nothing left to do except let his thoughts mature. Wracking his brain, Neil couldn’t think of a single reason Andrew might have to make such a spontaneous gesture. They hadn’t passed a significant date lately (he double-checked their shared calendar to make sure) and it wasn’t like they had been apart recently – actually, given it was the off season, they’d done almost nothing but be in each other’s company.

Getting nowhere on his own, he decided on the reliable route of simply asking. Luckily, Andrew was awake when Neil crept back to the bedroom, two steaming mugs in hand. Andrew reached out for his but Neil danced it just scarcely out of reach. “Will you answer me something?”

Andrew threw him a groggy glare. “Bit early for a bribe isn’t it?”

Neil put on a hurt face. “I would _never_. Plus, it’s only a bribe if you take it.”

“Ugh, you think you’re so cute.” He did. He also noticed Andrew didn’t say otherwise. Andrew rolled his eyes and snagged the coffee. “Ask me, idiot.”

Neil braced himself with a deep breath. “Why the big date last night?”

Andrew’s walls shot up and threw Neil a sharpened glance over the rim of his mug. “Why, did you prefer the Bel Argent?”

The French accent Andrew rolled off his tongue threw Neil's mind for a quick loop before he could grasp what Andrew was referencing. That date had happened _weeks_ ago, was Neil supposed to have a preference?? He almost hadn't remembered the Bel Argent, let alone thought it could be related to the picnic.

“I was just curious,” he tried, thinking it should be a neutral answer but feeling like it was a dangerous one. “But now you’ve got me wondering: why the fancy bistro date?”

Andrew shrugged and sipped his coffee. He seemed to mull it over, like either his thoughts or Neil’s coffee might’ve been misbalanced. “I was... trying something.”

“Trying something?”

Andrew didn’t elaborate.

“Did you succeed?”

“Not especially.”

Neil froze, wondering if he should be stung by that. He couldn’t think of a single reason why he should be. “And last night’s picnic? Did that go better?”

Andrew analyzed him. Neil wondered what he saw to make his defenses soften, as though Neil had never spooked him in the first place. “Yeah, it went better.”

“Okay,” Neil said, dumb and numb. “Good.”

Andrew didn’t follow up with anything further. Neil tested something, “Should I expect more spontaneous home-cooked picnics in the future then?”

Andrew snorted. “You can’t expect them if they’re spontaneous, can you?”

“Smartass. I’m just saying that I liked it: the picnic, the drive, the stars. It was nice, if that's what you were trying for.”

Andrew’s gaze grew distant, some lingering disappointment creeping in and taking Neil entirely off-balance. Then he nodded and muttered, “One of the things.”

Neil had absolutely no idea what that meant or why he was so worried about it.  
  


4.  
Neil could not believe he was making this call.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up –”

_“Hi, you’ve reached the personal voice mailbox of –”_

Neil swore and hung up, only to dial the exact same number.

“If you don’t pick up, I swear to god, I’ll rescind your season tickets...”

_“Hi, you’ve reached –”_

“COME ON!” Neil might have thrown his phone if embarrassment wasn’t outweighing his anger. Not that there was very far for his phone to go – it was a changing room, for heaven’s sake.

Andrew had gone and bought him a suit for the Fox reunion dinner and this was the first fitting. Normally Andrew would be with Neil, picking over every detail, making each decision, which suited Neil just fine – he liked that Andrew tailored him and liked him in nice clothes (especially since Andrew was the person Neil most wanted to impress). But Andrew had refused to be present this time, told Neil it should be a suit of his own design, which felt like a test. Only, Neil didn’t know what he was meant to be proving.

Hence the panicked phone calls which he followed up with a slightly hysteric text message: ‘SOS CALL ME’

He was out of the fitting and back in the parking lot by the time she returned his call.

“Allison, thank god.”

_“Neil, what is going on that you leave me three missed calls?”_

“I have an emergency. I think I’m going crazy.”

_“Okay, well, you need to be more specific.”_

It was probably best to word-vomit. Still, he waited until he was alone in the car before he blurted, “WhatdoesitmeanifAndrewkinkedupoursexlife?”

To her credit, Allison didn’t miss a beat. _“What kind of kink are we talking? Like dirty talk, did he tie you up, what?”_

“He dressed up in lace and his gear,” he tried valiantly to ignore her burst of laughter. “Apparently it was all Nicky’s idea!”

_“Oh, honey!"_

“Yes, I’m predictable. Sue me. But what does that mean?”

_“It means Andrew’s right to call you a fucking junkie, you weirdo.”_

“No! I mean...” Neil bit his lip, wanting more than anything not to say it. “Why did he think we needed spicing up?” Allison went quiet over the phone. Neil capitalized on the silence. “Does he think we’re boring? Am I boring? What if I’m not –”

_“M’yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and interrupt your downward spiral. Neil: the man wanted you happy and orgasmic. That’s not a problem.”_

Great. Now he felt foolish too. “No, you’re right. I know that. I do! I know that. You’re right.”

_“Uh huh. That’s what it sounds like.”_

“But this is the latest in a string of weird stunts he’s pulled and I can’t tell what he’s thinking! He’s spent the last few months trying new things, planning big dates in fancy places, and I can’t figure out why he would bother when it makes him so uncomfortable!”

_“Hold on, I need you to slow down - why do you think Andrew’s uncomfortable?”_

“Because I know he is! I can see it! He –” He didn’t know how to explain to her how jumpy Andrew had been lately, how secretive he’d be only for nothing to come from it, how he’d hang up immediately if Neil caught him on a call. He didn’t know how to tell her honestly that Andrew had developed a new tic where he checked and clutched his pockets every few hours. “Look, you can call me crazy, but something’s going on and he won’t tell me about it.”

Allison went quiet for a while. Then, tentatively, she tried, _“Maybe it’s not you he thinks is boring.”_

Neil was struck dumb that Allison could be so stupid. “Don’t be stupid.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“What, you mean, Andrew might think he has to keep my interest? Andrew can’t think that. I’ve never looked at anybody else and he knows that.”

_“Yeah, well I’m not a certified Andrew expert like you are, okay? I don’t have the fucking answer Neil! All I know is, everyone doubts themselves sometimes and if you’re so sure Andrew isn’t doubting then maybe the problem’s with your paranoia.”_

The dial tone that followed spelled out an apology in his future.  
  


5\.   
“Um. Andrew?” Neil called, struggling to button up his jacket with sleeve-laden fingers. “I think I got the wrong suit.”

 _“What?!_ ” Andrew raced into the bathroom where Neil was changing. “What do you mean wrong –” and then he stopped because it was obvious.

Neil was practically swimming in the jacket. When he stretched his arms out, the shoulders bunched up to his ears, the sleeves dangled a good four inches past his fingers, and the hem still fell halfway to his knees. He made quite the amusing picture in the mirror. “I know for a fact Julian was going to hem the sleeves, not elongate them. He talked about adjustments at great length with me.”

Andrew’s face fell into both his palms. “You can’t be serious,” came a mumble.

Neil chuckled, waving his sleeves about. “You could probably fit in here with me. Wanna see?”

Andrew glared which Neil thought was a little sour-grapes of him. “No. I’m gonna call them.”

The call was about as short as Andrew’s apparent temper. He hung up his flip-phone with a sharp click and promptly chucked his phone out into the carpeted hallway. “They mixed up the tags.”

Neil hummed, somewhat cautious about Andrew’s rare and unusual temper. “Simple mistake. My proper suit’s still there?”

Andrew stiffly nodded. “Tagged for a Mr. R. Paxon.”

“Great, I’ll just swap the suit when we’re back.” There simply wasn’t time for them to run to the tailor now and still make their flight for the Fox reunion.

“Yeah,” Andrew huffed, arms crossed, attitude sour. “Great.”

Neil was quite certain they both felt anything but.

-

“Neil!” Dan, being the first to see them, was also the first to wrap him in a tight hug. She smacked his chest on the withdraw. “I thought Andrew bought you a fancy suit for this, what’s with the jeans and tee?”

“Common ineptitude,” Andrew growled, edging past her to head off an overenthusiastic Nicky trying several routes past a food-laden Wymack to charge them.

Dan looked back to Neil, brow raised to ask ‘Problem much?’

Neil shook his head, helpless. “It’s a long upsetting story. For some reason.” Behind her, he saw Andrew shoot back an offered glass of whiskey like a man dying of thirst. Liquid courage perhaps. “I’m kind of worried it’s a sign.”

Dan crossed her arms, the classic tic that meant he had her full attention. “A bad sign?”

Neil didn’t want to say, didn’t even want to nod, just in case jinxes were a real force in the universe.

Dan pulled him into a gentler hug this time. “I’m not worried for two reasons,” she spoke into his ear. “One: the couple that survives serial killers together, stays together, just like this team. Two: he wouldn’t dare try anything with all of us here to give him hell. So nothing bad’s gonna happen tonight, you hear?”

Neil nodded, soaking in her immovable confidence. Which is when Matt interfered with a feat of strength and bearhugged them both up off the ground, lending Neil both a short spike of adrenaline and buoyant optimism – exactly what Neil needed to brighten his mood before dinner.

  
6.  
 _Engaged!_ They were engaged now and that’s what every strange behaviour had been about from the secrecy to the short fuse to the –

“So, wait,” Neil said, pulling them back from the stairs at the last minute, reeling in his fiancé to the wall. “Wait, wait, wait,” each one punctuated with a kiss. He wanted this to be just his and Andrew’s moment for a while longer. “How many times did you try to propose to me?”

“Five.”

“Five?!” Neil just about _preened._ “Don’t I feel special.” Another kiss, though that may have been to stop him grinning like a loon. They kept close afterwards, foreheads touching and Neil sighed like the happiest man alive. “Charmer,” he complimented, a brush to Andrew’s jaw. “You didn’t have to go so big for me.”

“Yeah, I got around to figuring that out.” Neil laughed. Then he had the thought...

“Was the bistro the first time?!” That fiasco had been nearly four months ago!

But Andrew shook his head and said, “Second.”

Neil perked up. “Second? When did you try before?”

“Sometime on our roof at home,” Andrew shrugged and looked away, like he wasn’t proud to admit it. “Wasn’t special.”

That wasn’t true, as evidenced by the very recent, very rooftop-located, amazing proposal. Quite on the contrary, Neil was feeling every kind of special. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”

“I can, you’re as observant as a blindspot.”

For that, Neil had to kiss him, not that it helped. Coming out of that dozenth kiss, Neil was still experiencing tunnel vision. “I’m gonna get you back, you know.”

Andrew promptly flushed red. “What for? We’re already engaged.”

“Wrong, _I’m_ engaged. You, sir, have no ring on your finger – what’s to stop you from stealing away with Michael Fassbender?” It wasn’t every day he got to tease Andrew about his celebrity crush but it was always a treat to learn Andrew could go a deeper red than Neil’s own hair.

“Jesus, Josten, get out of my face.” When he didn’t move, Andrew shoved him a step back – a move Neil planned to make him regret. “You haven’t had that ring for five minutes and the inscription is already outdated.”

“That’s a given, you waited more than four months to give it to me.” Neil hummed happily, twirling his new ring round his finger as he backed slowly closer to the stairs. “Anyway, Aaron and Nicky are downstairs so I best go ask for their blessing to wed you.”

Too late, Andrew shouted but Neil was already racing downstairs, plots upon plots of payback proposals piling up in his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so.... accidentally wrote myself into another sequel??
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
